Til We Meet Again
by boonadducious
Summary: PostReckoning. A postmortem Jonathan's observations of life after his death. ONESHOT


**Title:** 'Til We Meet Again  
**Author:** Ashley, boonadducious, Nanny, whatever you want to call me.  
**Pairing:** Jonathan/Martha  
**Rating:** PG for thematic elements  
**Warnings:** I don't even own a car. How could I own these characters?  
**Spoilers:** RECKONING  
**Status:** Complete  
**Short Summery:** What if a soul who has passed on could return to Earth for a night? What if that soul was a certain farmboy's departed father?  
**Dedication:** To Jeremy. May God guide you through this trial with wings intact.

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A cold wind blew through the yellow farmhouse as the darkness of the brisk winter night enveloped the many acres that made up the farm. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the crickets were singing the beautiful lullaby that they always gave us. The plants danced with the music of the wind blowing through the crevices contained in the decaying buildings and the moon seemed to illuminate everything in a mellow blue. It was beautiful, but not unusual. These were things that I saw every night, and I never realized how much I took them for granted until now.

This was my home. This was the place where I spent every year of my life. I vaguely recall running around the farm as a young boy exploring the many nooks and crannies that littered the property. When I was older, I remembered carrying my new wife, Martha, into the house where we were to spend the remaining years of our life, and eventually raise our son, Clark.

If any memory stuck out, though, it was the blood, sweat, and tears I shed keeping this land in our possession. A particular task that never seemed to end was fixing the multiple tractors that never seemed to work. I remember always waiting for Clark to come home so that he could use his amazing strength to lift that tractor and let me get underneath to wrench out the problems. I also remember the months of work that went into repairing my house after it was leveled by a meteor. It was during that time that Clark was forced to live without his power and we had to face many hardships in a way that was foreign to use; the normal way. That life soon passed with a near loss of our son. At first I didn't understand why that had to happen to him, but I soon realized that it was to prepare our family for the loss to come. That loss was me.

I had just won the race for the Kansas Senate and I was happier than I had ever been in my life. I was looking foreword to driving to Topeka every day and making a difference in the lives of so many people. More than anything, though, I was happy that I was finally someone that my son could look up to rather than down to while flying in the vast sky of his inevitable destiny.

However, that dream was shattered after I violently fought with my former enemy, Lionel Luthor. I felt pains in my chest and I was on my way toward my house to get my medication for relieving this pressure. I never made it to the house. In fact, I barely made it out of my barn. I collapsed in the arms of my wife and my son as I heard a soft voice saying that it was time for me to save Clark's life that was briefly taken so many weeks before. Within the hour, my body and my spirit forever separated and I was forced to watch from afar as my family grieved.

From that moment on, I had longed to be with them. I wanted to dry their tears and tell them that I was okay. I wanted to see their faces close and allow them to feel my presence one last time. That desire alluded me until I was surprised to discover that my need would be met. I was allowed to dwell among my family while they were asleep for one night, and I jumped at that chance. I knew that if I did manage to make my presence known, they would only notice if they were asleep.

It was under these circumstances that I slipped through the closed kitchen window and into the old house that had given a lifetime's worth of memories. There was still a stain on the wooden floor where I accidentally knocked over Dad's paint can while he was remodeling the kitchen. There was also a conspicuous place where plaster had repaired a hole. It was from Clark's first temper tantrum from not being able to go to summer camp with Pete. I remembered it like it was yesterday. I was so scared at the thought of this dangerous little boy becoming an even more dangerous teenager. However, it didn't happen. In fact, Clark became the exact man I wanted him to become, and so much more.

Before I knew it, I was in that man's bedroom. He was sleeping like he usually did; on his side with his large arms supporting the pillow. His dark hair had certainly grown since I had been here last. It seemed to cover his entire forehead and part of his eyes. His muscled also seemed to have grown, which signaled to me that his true destiny was nearing. His face seemed to be that most telling feature of all, because even in sleep, it seemed to have the look of burden that encompassed him all the time. It was actually a burden of my own that I could not ease his pain. Not even in life could I give him peace. How could I think I could do it in death?

_Clark,_ I communicated through my heart. That was where true words of feeling came from in the first place, and even though a physical voice alluded me, I prayed that Clark would be able to feel my words through his altered state of consciousness. After a few minutes, I began to doubt that he heard me, but that didn't stop me from continuing to try and get my message through.

_Son, it's me. It's Daddy. I know that you might not be able to hear me now, but I really hope that your heart will. I've been watching you, Clark. I know that you're blaming yourself for my death, and I can feel your pain. But I want to let you know that I'm okay. I'm here, son. I haven't disappeared from existence. You and your mom are all I think about, and I know that you two will make it here on Earth until we meet again. _

_You are an amazing boy, Clark. You have such great power and yet you never use it for selfish reasons. You have unconditional love for those close to you and you would defend them to the death if given the chance. I don't think you have any idea how proud I am of you son. I am more proud of you than any words can describe. You have given me more joy than I could ever imagine, and I know that you will continue to give that to many others. _

That was all I could say. There were so many more words, but I knew that that was all that my son needed to hear, and if I continued, it would only be more painful than necessary for me. I might actually be tempted not to go back, which would not be a wise choice. However, I wasn't even sure that he even registered what my heart conveyed to him.I wanted to whisper to him, but I couldn't. The voice that I used to dispense the advice from my soul was now useless and lying in a grave along with the rest of my physical form. I yearned for those fingers so I could touch his hair and those lips so I could kiss his forehead, but the want would only cause me more sadness. All I could do was watch my beloved son's steady breaths and take comfort in the knowledge that I would be able to hug him someday in the future. No matter how much logic told me that he would live on Earth forever, I knew better. No one was immortal, and the day when he and I would be together again would be the day Earth lost its greatest resident. I was content to let the earth have him first, but it didn't stop the want to tell my son it was all going to be alright.

I hovered around my son's bed for a little longer, and I began to see something that I didn't notice before when I first entered. A smile had appeared on his face. It was a smile that I recognized. He wore it every time I dispensed one of my classic platitudes. I always thought that he was faking it just to get me off his back, but as he lay there with that familiar look, I felt a genuine feeling of peace radiating off him. This let happiness encompass myself as I descended toward his face. I then let my being encounter his cheek so that I could lay the spiritual equivalent of a kiss on him and let him know that I was still here.

_I love you so much, Clark. More than you can fathom._

Clark shifted his position in the bed so that he curled toward his heart. This was the same motion he did every time he told me he had talked to Lana in middle school. He also did that motion when I talked to him in his sleep after he returned from Metropolis. It was almost as if he had a feeling so wonderful that he couldn't contain it.

"Daddy," he whispered in a tone that the ear of the body might not pick up, but the ear of the soul could hear loud and clear. I was now elated that my son could feel me and that he knew I was alright. I prayed that he would remember this experience when he woke up.

All of a sudden, I heard a whimper from down that hall. I knew that voice. It was Martha. She was the one who needed me the most.

I took one last look at Clark before I left him and floated down the hall. I then slid through the door to enter the threshold where my wife and I would lay together every night. Tonight, though, the room had a very different feel. She was lying alone nestled underneath the thick covers adorned with yellow flowers. I remembered that I used to hate those flowered sheets that her mother gave us, but now I would do anything to slip underneath them again.

I sailed closer to her sleeping form until I was close enough to single out every freckle on her beautiful face. Her arms were wrapped around a large pillow in the manner that they embraced me during our many slumbers together. The small gold ring that signified our union was still on her marriage finger, and the edges of her eyelids her red, as if burned by tears. Her legs were curled so that her knees were touching her stomach and her long red hair was less kept than it was when she usually went to sleep. I knew that she always tied her hair back to look presentable for me, even though she looked beautiful no matter what. Now she didn't seem to care what she looked like, and it created a very lonely aura around her.

All I wanted to do was say that I was here. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, that I was going to see her again, and that we would be together for eternity. However, I was helpless in that regard. Unlike with my son, I didn't know what to say to her. Clark didn't need me anymore, and that made him much easier to talk to since I was only saying goodbye. However, Martha was different. She was my wife, and we had a deep spiritual connection that would cause deep emotional consequences if broken. Since my death, my wife was now incomplete, and nothing but a true reunion between us could fix it. Despite the benefits that could happen, letting her know I was here might only pour salt on a very open wound. My fear of hurting my beloved further paralyzed me. All I could do was gaze at her and try to build my courage.

After a while, there were visible shivers in her jaw and her hands, and it made me very frightened. This was not the kind of shivering that came from low temperatures; this was the shivering that came from supernatural presence. She felt me. I knew it. This was a perfect opportunity to say something, but I was scared I would say the wrong thing and leave her with a bad impression that I could never take back. However, this was only a one time event, and if I missed it, Martha would live the rest of her natural life wondering if I had lived on after death.

_Martha, _I began. _My beloved wife. I love you beyond words, and I will always be in your heart. You and I will be together again soon. _

I began to think of more to say to this woman that I loved so dearly, but I knew there was no need. Her face immediately softened and her lips parted to let a single soft word come out.

"Jonathan?" she whispered with her mind still in a deep sleep.

_Yes Martha, _I said with a joyful heart as I hovered above her as close as I could get without actually entering her body.

"Why did you leave me?"

At that moment, my joy began to drain and make way for distress. If I had a form, I would have been crying at that statement. The thought of my wife feeling a sense of abandonment with my passing was something I never wanted to happen. I didn't want to leave her. That was just how the plan took its course, and there was no way any mere mortal could change or predict it.

_Martha, I had to. It was my time._

She was silent. I became very concerned and worried for her. I resisted the temptation to slide inside her head and figure out what was going through her mind, even though impatience almost forced me to.

"I know," she finally said in a defeating tone, as if she was accepting the inevitable.

_I didn't want to go. You know that, right?_

Martha gave a tiny nod in her sleep as a smile similar to Clark's stretched across her face. She then squeezed the pillow tighter and started to loosen her fetal position.

"I miss you, baby. Clark does, too."

_I know. I miss you and Clark as well. However, I was happy to give my life for our son._

"Yes," Martha said as her voice began to fade off. "You know, Clark is becoming just like you."

_No, he's not. _I rebutted. _He's becoming better. He will make a difference in more people's lives than I ever could. He's going to make us both very proud._

"I'm already proud of him," Martha mumbled in the happiest tone she had used since our conversation began.

_So am I, honey. So am I._

Things were silent for a couple seconds as Martha seemed to soften her demeanor to my presence.

"I love you, Jonathan," She finally uttered

_I love you, too, Sweetheart._.

I conveyed those final words slowly so that I could make the moment last forever. I had forgotten how much I loved this woman. She was the best person that anyone could hope to spend a life with. She was the rock I looked to when times were at their hardest, and she was the greatest companion to share the good times with. She was the one who talked me into taking in the greatest gift we could have ever received; our son. It was her who seemed to know parenting instinctively and always taught me how to be the disciplinarian she knew I wasn't. She also seemed to be the one who knew what to do when Clark had an episode when he was little.

I hovered close to my wife for what seemed like hours. For that entire time, the smile never left her face, and not a single tear left her eyes. Her sleep seemed very serene and it made me feel certain that she was okay. However, I worried that once I left her, she would return to being lonely. I then thought back to my younger days when my father died. There was a clear void in my heart for a very long time after, but after I decided to open up his old trunk full of his memories it became much less painful. When I looked upon the evidence of his life, I realized that he would never truly be gone as long as I remembered him and kept his words with me at all times. That meant living them out rather than just quoting them like some crazy self-help guru. I hoped that this experience would give Martha and Clark the same conviction.

While I was thinking about this, without warning Martha shot out of bed.

"Jonathan? Jonathan?" she cried out. She looked around the room frantically as if she expected to see me lurking in the shadows.

_Martha, I'm here! _I cried, but she didn't hear me. She didn't even feel me presence anymore. The world outside of sleep was too vast and full of doubt for me to be known to her now. We had parted for the last time.

After a few seconds of scanning the room, she hung her head in disappointment as she clutched the pillow to her chest.

"A dream," she uttered sadly. "It was a cruel dream."

My heart was broken at her sorrow. I should not have come. I thought I would be comforting the ones I loved, but instead I had caused my wife even more pain. I hovered around the ceiling as I watched Clark run into the room and sit on the bed beside his mother after asking her what happened. He then let Martha fall into his embrace and release her tears onto his chest.

This was a horrible scene, although I should have expected it. I was warned before I left that returning to Earth was a great risk. It would either be extremely rewarding or extremely painful, and right now that latter was looking to be the scenario of choice. At least I thought that, until my son awoke the fire of hope.

"I heard him too, you know," Clark said to Martha as she lifted her head to meet his eyes. I began to drift closer as I saw them stare at each other in silent realization. Martha ended up returning her head to our son's chest, but rather than cry, she just lay there, with a smile on her face.

If I had a face, I would have joined her.

As I rose out of the house on my way back home, I kept the memories of the ones I loved in my head. These were the two people I lived my lives for. The people who kept me going during the hardest times in my life. The people that truly made me who I am now. This was my family, and I couldn't wait for them to join me. For now, though, I will certainly obey the words on my gravestone; Rest in Peace.


End file.
